


Actions speak louder (but the words are nice)

by Velace



Series: Incomplete. [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, I still don't like Hook, It shows, Shameless Smut, extremely mild angst, probably, vaguely fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 09:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12429960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: On the day of her wedding, Emma Swan ran, as fast and as far away as she could. Three months later, she returns to Storybrooke for one reason, and one reason only.





	Actions speak louder (but the words are nice)

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely smut. I dunno where it came from, but it came (I refuse to make that pun, brain, shut up) and it wasn't going anywhere until I wrote it down. So I did… because I'm whipped… by a completely imaginary character in my head known as the Muse whose existence relies solely on my need to blame someone other than myself for things like this.
> 
> She says hi.

There are a million and one reasons for why this is a bad idea but Regina just can't seem to help herself any longer. Emma Swan is on her stoop. Emma Swan is on her stoop with a smile so bright it could blind, and an offer she would be insane to refuse on a night like tonight.

Sighing her resignation, Regina steps back and swings the door wide. She takes Emma's jacket and gestures in the direction of the den. Emma grins at her as she passes. It's a dopey little thing that Regina would like to roll her eyes at but can't for a many number of reasons, not least of which is because Emma is _happy_. She can't remember the last time she'd seen a grin like that, or when her heart last stuttered the way that it does; not because she's trying to trap a sob in her chest, but because Emma is so, so _breathtaking_ when she's happy.

Regina rolls her eyes at herself and hangs the jacket before pivoting on her heel. She walks slowly towards the den, heels clipping a staccato rhythm against the hardwood floor. It won't do to appear eager, she's decided. The thought of sitting next to Emma for an hour and forty five minutes (ish) with the scent of leather and vanilla in her nose is overwhelming enough without Emma _knowing_ there is nowhere in the world she would rather be.

Nerves suddenly alight, she walks straight passed the den with a, "I'll get the wine," tossed over the shoulder. She doesn't miss the amused, knowing flash of that face as she passes, but she pretends to because Emma is _happy_ , and she refuses to ruin that.

In the kitchen, she takes a deep breath, and then another. Her eyes slip shut, mind chiding her heart for its attack-like thumping against her chest. She chuckles quietly to herself, delighting in the irony of the idea that she might succumb to a heart attack. She will concede, however, that if anyone is capable of giving her one, it is definitely Emma Swan with her doe-like green eyes and those ridiculously charming smiles.

"Regina!"

Exhaling loudly, her eyes snap open as she starts forward before catching herself against the counter. She rounds it to where she keeps the wine, retrieving a bottle and two glasses that she sends to the den with a wave of her hand.

If she knows Emma as well as she thinks, and she does, then Emma will be too surprised by its sudden appearance to yell for her again. At least until she gets over it and decides to pour the wine herself while she waits, giving Regina another few minutes to compose herself.

Said minutes pass in a cacophony of deep breathes, weary sighs and a certain groan she has heard more than once today, but never before. It is a groan that asks that one question everyone has at least once in their life; why me?

Emma has _a lot_ of explaining to do.

Making her way back to the den, Regina pauses at the entrance. The sight of Emma on her couch, legs crossed, a mild look of boredom on her face as she waits not too patiently, is a sight Regina wondered if she would ever see again.

"Feel better?"

"Define better," she counters, her voice far deeper than it has any right to be.

Emma's mouth twitches. "Still want to kill me?"

"Always," Regina lies, heart skipping at the soft chuckle Emma gives as she pats the cushion beside her.

Regina moves, not entirely sure how she manages it when her legs feel like jello. As she takes her seat, their thighs brush and her breath hitches. She clears her throat, hoping against hope that Emma hadn't noticed as she leans forward and retrieves the, now full, wine glass from the table.

Sitting back, she takes a sip and sighs, eyes closing once more, this time in pleasure. She doesn't want to know, not really, but nor does she want silence between them and so she asks, "How was New York?"

"Good," Emma replies, their shoulders touching as she shifts. More quietly, she admits, "A little lonely."

"I can imagine," Regina murmurs. She has had her fair share of loneliness over the period of her long life, these last three months not withstanding. "Meet anyone interesting?"

"I didn't abandon everyone I love to go out and meet new people." Twitching, Regina growls her name in warning and Emma sighs. "Sorry."

Forcing her eyes open, Regina looks at her. She is trying so very hard not to be angry with Emma. It is surprising how much effort it takes considering how well she knows her. She knew Emma would run. She knew _why_ Emma would run, and yet her understanding seems to make little difference on how she feels, if it makes any difference at all.

Emma meets her gaze, head falling back against the couch. She offers Regina a smile, small and soft, and sighs again. "Outside of this town… this _house_ ," she corrects, "interesting people no longer exist."

Regina's chest warms and she looks away before Emma catches her own smile. Anger isn't the only thing she feels but it is the only feeling Emma deserves after she'd left her— after she'd left their son.

"You have a lot of groveling to do," she says, taking another sip of her wine before she sits forward and sets it back down on the table. She takes Emma by the hand, ignoring the shock that paints her face as she stands, tugging Emma to her feet, adding, "You can start by making it up to me." 

* * *

 

They were supposed to talk. They were supposed to relax, watch a movie and share some wine, and then they were supposed to _talk_. Emma never expected— never even _thought_ that this was a possibility, that Regina would demand _this_ as a way for her to atone for the mistake-not-mistake she made three months ago.

"Shit."

Her head thumps against wood as hands slip beneath her tank and teeth sink into the flesh of her throat. She hadn't even gotten a look at the room she was dragged into before Regina pounced and slammed her back against the door.

Arching into the hands that palm her breasts through her bra, she groans. The sound grows louder when Regina adds nails, raking them down her skin and skipping over cups, snagging before snapping back, missing her nipples and leaving them free for Regina to rub, pinch and twist as the cups pull uncomfortably against her breasts.

Emma squirms under the pleasant assault of hands and mouth, shrinking back when overwhelmed but thrusting forward and stretching as Regina attempts to soften her approach. It doesn't last, it can't because Regina is angry and Emma doesn't fault her for a second.

"Regina," she gasps as she's finally released from the torture of those hands and they trail down her stomach, their destination clear. Her knees buckle and she can't— she _can't._ "Bed. Please."

"No," Regina growls into the skin of her neck, fingers thrusting beneath the waistband of her jeans and through the warm, slick heat that awaits them.

Regina teases the length of her slit and Emma tries not to sob but not a minute later, she cries out, hips jerking forward as Regina slides inside, two fingers deep and pumping, quick and hard.

Moaning, Emma presses her hands to the door and hopes it's enough as she spreads her legs as wide as she can and lets Regina take her. She thought their first time would be slow and gentle, that they would make love, but she would be lying if she claimed not to love this. She always did prefer Regina with the fire in her eyes and the threat of pain on her lips. Being around Regina was never easy, but this— surrendering to her is the easiest thing Emma has ever done in her life.

On one particular thrust, she swears before Regina leaves her neck to claim her lips and invade her mouth. Her whole body shudders and she sucks on the wet, silken tongue as Regina grinds a palm into her clit.

The tension builds swiftly from there and, unable to take any more, Emma clamps down on her fingers. Regina emits a rumble from somewhere deep in her throat and breaks the kiss. The anger in her gaze would be enough to send Emma over the edge, but it's the desire that eclipses the anger that does it and she's coming within seconds.

Regina's lips part and Emma almost misses the expression of awe on her face as she closes her eyes. She smiles to herself, head fuzzy from orgasm but clear enough that she can imagine what Regina felt as she squirted into the palm of her hand.

"I—"

"It's normal," she murmurs, cutting her off.

"I— I know," Regina stutters, carefully extracting her hand. "Have you ever…"

"No." Emma shakes her head, lids fluttering. She'd done it before but given that it was only ever by her own hand, she doesn't think it counts. "Only for you."

"Oh."

Visibly swallowing, Regina steps back as her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. Emma shoots out a hand, fingers curling around a hip. She pulls her back in and embraces her, burying her face in the crook of Regina's neck as she drops a kiss to her pulse.

Regina stiffens, but only briefly, and then there is a hand in her hair and another slipping around her to settle in the small of her back.

"I missed you," Emma mumbles against her skin, squeezing her tighter than is likely necessary, and not caring in the slightest.

Fingers running through her hair, Regina doesn't appear to care either as she murmurs, "I missed you too." Emma chuckles and the fingers turn rough, tugging once in reprimand before Regina drawls, "Obviously."

"Obviously," Emma repeats as she straightens, arms now loose around Regina's waist. "I didn't expect…"

Regina raises a shoulder before letting it fall. "It was either that or give in to my desire to punch you in the face."

"Well." Emma laughs. She definitely wasn't expecting _that_. "I'm glad you chose the less painful of the two." She tilts her head with a smile. "Still want to punch me?"

"The jury is still out on that."

It's not the answer she was hoping for, but she'd suspected as much after the anger she'd seen. "Would it help if I returned the favour?"

Regina hums as though thinking it over and then she's walking backwards. Emma follows, guided by the hand at her back, a shiver chilling her skin as Regina drags nails down through her hair and grips the back of her neck. "I think it might," she purrs, calves hitting the bed before she falls back onto it and pulls Emma with her.

Emma catches herself at the last second and quickly straddles her hips. "We still have all our clothes on."

"You should do something about that… starting with yourself." Immediately, she grabs the hem of her own shirt and rips it up over her head. Regina smirks, eyes zeroing in on her chest before she licks her lips. "That can't be comfortable."

Glancing down, Emma shakes her head and reaches behind her. Unclasping her bra, she takes it off and throws it somewhere over her shoulder. She considers how best to remove her jeans without getting up before warm, possessive hands take their fill of her breasts and her mind goes blank, mouth drying as she finds those eyes once more and sees the sheer want gazing back at her.

"Three months." Her brow furrows and Regina growls, "That's how long you made me wait for this." Suddenly, Emma is on her back and she's gasping in surprise. She knew Regina was strong, but _damn_. "Now it's your turn."

* * *

 

Emma tenses beneath her and opens her mouth to protest but Regina knows her too well not to see it coming; yes, Emma has waited too, but there is a significant difference when one of them made a decision the other did not.

"You _chose_ to run," Regina reminds her, lust and anger lacing her tone. "You could have…" Her face falls but only for a second before it contorts in a grimace and she flicks her wrist, divesting Emma of her pants. "You will wait."

It is neither a question nor a suggestion and Emma doesn't take it as either. Regina feels the tension leave her body and Emma sinks into the mattress at her back, understanding in her eyes and in the smile that curves her mouth.

Regina bends forward and captures that smile, sighing against Emma's lips as her kiss is returned. She doesn't want to fight. She doesn't want to be sad, or angry, although she most certainly is both. She just wants this— wants Emma. She has been dreaming of their reunion ever since Emma left the pirate dumbstruck and gaping as she fled her backyard.

Emma cups her cheek and deepens the kiss, tongue running the length of her lower lip before sweeping into her mouth. Their moans are simultaneous and Regina squeezes her eyes shut, allowing herself to become lost in the sensations that Emma evokes within for a few, glorious moments.

Coming back to herself, she begins peppering kisses over Emma's chin and down along her throat, Emma tips her head back, offering skin that Regina marks with the grazing of teeth interspersed with hungered sucking of lips and tongue.

The sounds she draws from Emma with every inch covered spurs her on and before she even realizes it, she's latching onto Emma's breast, groaning into it as she swipes her tongue over a nipple that hardens in her mouth.

"Regina, please."

She shudders, the plea resonating somewhere deep inside of her as she caves, kissing a trail down Emma's stomach. She pauses only twice; the first merely a brief stop to nip at the skin above Emma's belly button, but the second—

She rocks forward, head against Emma's stomach as she closes her eyes and breathes in the sweet aroma of the warm, wet heat that's there to greet her. To taunt her. She moans, mouth watering with anticipation.

How Emma doesn't so much as twitch when she tears the skimpy shorts from her legs is a mystery, but Regina throws them somewhere in the vicinity of her other clothes and ignores the thought, more interested in the scent that is now stronger and more overwhelming than before.

Emma swears at the first stroke of her tongue and Regina is surprised to find just how much it turns her on, thighs growing even slicker as the husked curse reaches her ears. Emma is delicious, as sweet to taste as she is to smell. Regina had every intention of taking it slow this time, eager to tease and have Emma beg for mercy, but she simply doesn't have the strength or conviction to go through with it.

She wants to take Emma into her mouth and devour her whole. "You have no idea how often I've dreamed of this." Emma whimpers at the words and Regina smiles, eyes flicking open and up as she raises her head just enough to look Emma in the eyes. "You are mine."

Emma nods almost frantically, mouth moving as if to form words, though none come. Regina hears them regardless and rewards her with a second stroke. She is incapable of holding in her moan as the taste explodes on her tongue, and incapable of keeping what little control she has as the creamy sweet warmth coats her mouth.

A third and fourth stroke follow before she sees the twitch of muscles and quickly diverts her attention to the thigh that threatens to clamp down on her head. She smirks and clamps down on it instead with teeth, relishing the sharp cry of her name as fingers tangle within her hair and attempt to pull her away.

She growls softly, then soothes the bite with a kiss and the gentle suckling of lips. There is a quiet sigh from above, fingers loosening their hold on her hair before she returns her attention to Emma's cunt. She explores gently, lapping at the increasing moisture before gathering it up and locating Emma's clit.

When she sucks it into her mouth, Emma bucks against her face with yet another swear. Regina throbs, her every sense filled but one. Adding fingers, she teases her opening before easily slipping inside, gently thrusting as she places more of her focus on the pulsing bundle in her mouth.

It is only when Emma begins to shake that Regina fucks her in earnest. Remembering how successful she was earlier, she changes from long, slow strokes to short, fast ones. As Emma clenches around her, Regina sucks hard on her clit and with one more thrust, Emma releases a choked moan, body rigid for all of a second before she starts to convulse, cunt gripping Regina like a vice as she comes.

Curling her fingers, drawing it out, Regina licks from entrance to clit and gathers as much of her sweet warmth as she can before the spasms subside and Emma whines, pushing her away with the hand in her hair.

Head on a thigh, she traces nonsense patterns on the other with the tips of her fingers. Once Emma has her breathing under control, she breaks the silence between them to ask, "Is it my turn yet?"

Regina smirks. Even though at least ten minutes have passed, she has yet to cool down. A single touch in the right place and she's certain she'll go off like a bottle rocket. "Perhaps."

"Regina…"

"Hmm?"

Quietly, Emma questions, "Will it ever be my turn?"

_Why does she sound so…_

Forehead creasing with her frown, Regina tips her head back, and blinks at what she finds. Sad. Emma looks sad and, oh god she hates that look. She can't count the number of times she wanted to punch that goddamn pirate for that look. "Of course."

"Oh." The look disappears as if it were never there and Emma grins. "Okay. Good."

Huffing, Regina returns her attention to Emma's thigh. She's in love with an idiot.

"You want to punch me again, don't you?"

A smart idiot.

"You know me so well."

**Author's Note:**

> Someone is bound to demand a second chapter at some point. I agree it is needed, but for the moment I'm leaving it like this. I'm sure I don't need to tell any of you why.


End file.
